Page 94 of Blood Heir

He breathes deeply, nodding. “Yes. The council won’t convene for another few hours. The elders will allow a delay if you call for a private audience.”

“Good. Then I have time,” I say, my voice low and sharp. “Because I’m not going to that meeting until I save him first.”

Brother Stefano’s brow furrows. “You mean Serevin, the man whose aunt planned this?”

“Yes.” My eyes flash. “They’re holding him, Stefano. I’m not losing him like this. I need men. I need weapons. And I need them now.”

For a moment, he studies me—this girl who returned from hell and was hell bent on saving her enemy.

He hesitates. His brow furrows. “Fioretta….” His voice softens. “You know what you’re asking. And you know who you’re risking this for.”

I meet his gaze without flinching. “Yes.”

He presses further. “You know he colluded with his aunt to steal from you. He is an enemy.”

I exhale slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. My pulse drums beneath my skin, and for a brief moment, my chest tightens with all the memories crashing back. The betrayal. The rooftop. The diary. The meetings. His lies.

And yet.

“I know,” I whisper. “I know he betrayed me. I know he helped them. I know he let them strip me of everything I was. And still….” My voice breaks, but I catch it, clenching my fists. “I can't live without him.”

Brother Stefano’s expression is unreadable, but I see the flash of pain cross his face.

“I don’t mind him as my enemy,” I continue, voice sharper. “But he needs to stay alive to remain one.”

We stare at each other—a silent battle neither of us wins.

Then his head dips in quiet resignation. “Give me five minutes.”

Without another word, he vanishes into the church.

The heavy wooden doors shut behind him, leaving me and Emilia in tense silence. She paces near the car, her arms crossed tightly against her chest.

“You sure you want to do this?” she mutters.

I don’t answer.

Five agonizing minutes crawl by, and then the doors swing open. Brother Stefano emerges, flanked by armed men in black tactical gear. Two heavy armored cars roll into view from the side courtyard, headlights cutting through the mist. The men load ammunition, rifles, and crates into the trunks. Silent, efficient, ready.

“Your army, child.” Brother Stefano gestures toward the vehicles, his face grim but resolute. “Use them wisely."

He looks around and then snaps his fingers. One man runs up to him holding a bulletproof vest. Brother Stefano takes my hand and leads me to a quiet corner, with the man holding the vest following behind us. The man gives me the vest, and Brother Stefano says, “It looks thin, but it can take a few shots. Slip it on before you go.”

I nod, my chest tightening.

"God be with you, child."

He and the man leave. I pull my T-shirt off, slip on the vest with shaky hands, and then slide my shirt back on; the vest is barely visible.

I go back to Emilia, who is pacing and mumbling.

“Stay here. You’ll be safe at the church," I tell her.

But she steps forward, voice trembling but determined. “No. You need a rat with you to sniff out other rats.”

Her words hang heavy between us. I narrow my eyes at her, searching for any hint of deceit.

I sigh. “Fine. But don’t slow me down.”

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